


Dark Ocean

by JustaTWDfangirl



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M, Merle is a cook, No Spoilers, Read and explore, Rickyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 11:42:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15929726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustaTWDfangirl/pseuds/JustaTWDfangirl
Summary: Wow, he’s pretty.Rick didn’t have time to startle by his own thought, because the guy had spoken up with this raspy and heavy with accent voice of him.“We stopped sellin’ it 3 years ago man.” He said, throwing the towel on one shoulder and putting his hands on the counter. His gaze traveled from Rick’s face to the menu and he poked his chin toward it. “I suggest you try the lasagna, it’s pretty good.”Rick didn’t quit staring at the guy to look down the menu. “But why?”The other man lifted one eyebrow up.





	Dark Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So i don't really know about American cultures so if there're any mistakes then I apologize!  
> I hope you enjoy this work<3

After 4 hours at the funeral of Richard Grimes under the scattered rain and a solemn, heavy atmosphere, Rick couldn’t help but somehow feel a little lighter when the ceremony was over and most of the people coming to offer the sendoff had left. The portrait of the deceased man was put in the middle of a beautiful white garland, his smile hidden under stern eyes as well as a small lift at the corner of his mouth. But Rick knew he was truly happy the moment he took the picture, because it was the day the former policeman had received good news that his dear wife was bearing in her body another laddish baby after having a miscarriage once. Back then, at the age of 38, Aurelia Grimes wasn’t really old, but she wasn’t in the heyday for pregnancy anymore either with her fragile frame. Therefore, the birth of a healthy infant who had the bluest pair of eyes and a tiny tuft of curly hair on his head was indeed one of the most blissful moments the policeman had had in 67 years living on Earth. Hershel Greene - the Sherriff of the King County police department as well as a lot of other officers had come to express his condolence and said the last farewell to the old friend in the force. Rick had been overwhelmed by the large number of guests, because Richard Grimes could be said to be a stoic person and sometimes got too straightforward, which was easy to make some feel offended, but maybe people actually respected and loved him for that personality. 

A slender hand went to grab his which was hanging loose, pulling him out of the wandering thoughts. He turned to the left to see a soft, sad smile appear on Aurelia's face. The grey-headed woman although was in grief, but Rick could tell that some weight had seemed to be lifted off her shoulders, it lightening the woman’s posture and footsteps more than it had a few months ago when she devoted times and efforts to help her husband get through the treatment for blood cancer. He didn’t make it, but now that Aurelia knew her love didn’t have to suffer anymore, her mind had to be at ease in some way.   

Rick wished he had stayed by his father’s side when he passed away. 

Being 22 years old with blazing enthusiasm and hope, the bachelor who had just left the University of Economics decided to leave the county and traveled to Atlanta to find a job, expecting to be able to apply for a renowned, stable finance company. Soon afterwards he realized, just like almost every youthful dream else which got crashed, that even if you got a fine degree in your capable hands, nothing could assure that you would easily find a job you want, or  _a_  job in the city, for that matter. And 6 years later he’s still an employee designing banners and advertisements for a small electronic company and lived in a dilapidated apartment (he hadn’t mentioned the flat had these little but not-so-friendly friends called rat, had he?). That was after Rick took a photoshop course with the money he gained from working in a restaurant. He used to wonder what would happen if he became a policeman like his father, then kept questioning why Richard didn’t let him enter the same door he had gone through. Wouldn't that be something that another father gonna be proud of to have his son willingly following their step? Now he’d set off to heaven, and Rick would never have the chance to know the answer anymore. 

Back at the present and standing in the middle of the lonesome cemetery, Rick tried to focus on the warmth and steadiness of the aged woman standing next to him, instead of digging in the void and regrets in his heart. He lifted the hand holding his up and planted a soft kiss on the dry and cinnamon incense-wafted skin on the back of it.  

“Let’s go home Rick.” Aurelia told him. Like he had never left the two-story old house with the white picket fence to move into the city. Like he’s still the dirty, happy kid with stained clothes after a soccer practice and she came to bring him home. The familiarity made his throat close up in ineffable emotions. 

“Yes mom. I just... I want to stay a bit longer.”  

Aurelia smiled under her umbrella and squeezed his hand. 

“He’s always proud of you son, no matter what. Don’t ever doubt about that.” And she’s gone. 

 

Rick stayed and looked at the portrait and tried not to cry. More than an hour or so he left as well after giving the picture an indirect kiss with his hand. 

\-- 

 

After leaving the cemetery, Rick didn’t go straight home but steered the wheel and headed into town. Driving slowly through the old streets with rain drops splattered on the windows, he could see that lots of things had changed when he’s absent. Newly opened roads, higher office buildings, big advertisements were put here and there on the walls. The huge oak tree in the park had been cut down to make ways for walkers and runners. Cars on the street were in a hurry, sounds of horns and engines and people talking a blur in his ears, the closet sound to him was the quiet rain on the roof of the car. 

Looking at the foreign stores along the road instead of the old and familiar ones, Rick’s memory suddenly popped out with  _Dark_ _Ocean_  - the small bar that once upon a time Richard brought him to when he’s in elementary. The place wasn’t large in space but in return it offered a genial, country-ish sensation for customers with black window frames and wood chairs covered with brown fabrics. It had the blue signboard which was oddly big providing the bar’s name, and every rare time his father brought him from school, Rick always hoped to be there to enjoy his favorite Cheeseburger Egg Rolls – the famous dish of the place. They’re one of the happy moments he remembered having with his father that still stayed in his soul when he grew up. 

Rick drummed his fingers on the steering wheel lazily and gnawed his lower lip with his teeth, listening to the song of rain as he drove down the steep and went straight forward, only slowed when he saw the faded blue sign of the bar. Nothing really changed on the outside from the last time he’d seen it though. He grabbed the wet umbrella settled on the side seat and opened the car door. The umbrella bloomed with a “ _whoop_ ”.  

Maybe wearing a funeral suit with a black brolly was not a good idea to go eat at a bar. 

 _Screw it_ , Rick thought, today sure wasn't the day to care about those stuff and things. He’s not here to meet a girlfriend or anything anyway. Moreover the chance was high that no one in there knew who he was, or remembered him if they once met him before. If there’s anyone it could only be Henry the skinny old man who lived down Rick’s house a few blocks. He always remembered Rick, magically, although it’s a little creepy.   

The interior was just like its outside, almost looked and  _smelled_  the same, butter and waffles. Rick breathed in a lung full and felt the pleasantness spread through his system. There’re not many people in here, however they all seemed to be comfortable and content in their seats as they talked and laughed. A young waitress with her golden blonde hair pulled back to a side ponytail was attentively taking order from a customer. As she passed Rick she smiled welcomingly at him and he returned it along with a small nod. He chose a stool in front of the counter and waited for the bartender who was cleaning the glasses to turn around. Having nothing else to do beside looking around dazedly, he idly rubbed his index finger and thumb together, simultaneously pulling the crumpled menu close to him and reading through the dishes. 

After scanning the paper one and two more times to make sure, Rick was  _sure_ Cheeseburger Egg Rolls was nowhere to be seen on the list. As the bartender turned to him he lifted his head up and asked. 

“You guys no longer sell Cheeseburger Egg Rolls anymore?” 

Behind the bar was standing a young guy, maybe his age was about Rick’s, more or less, with his shaggy, dark blonde hair which almost got his ears covered. Rick found himself was being considered by a pair of pale blue eyes, near the blue of rocks, a darker color different from his own vibrant shade. The man had a beauty spot on the side of his upper lip, and his thin mouth closed to a line, a hint of amusement shown at the corner of it. Rick could tell that this young man was able to manage a gravitation toward people with his slightly feminine feature, and he himself couldn’t deny, the sight of the man’s ears that peaked through the locks of dirty blonde hair actually looked kinda... cute. 

 

 _Wow, he’s pretty._    

 

Rick didn’t have time to startle by his own thought, because the guy had spoken up with this raspy and heavy with accent voice of him. 

“We stopped sellin’ it 3 years ago man.” He said, throwing the towel on one shoulder and putting his hands on the counter. His gaze traveled from Rick’s face to the menu and he poked his chin toward it. “I suggest you try the lasagna, it’s pretty good.” 

Rick didn’t quit staring at the guy to look down the menu. “But why?” 

The other man lifted one eyebrow up. 

“I mean, why stopped selling it? Back when I was young it was one of the famous dishes here.” 

“You know Jena, the former owner of this place yeah?” The bartender told Rick. He nodded and vaguely remembered the old woman with chubby frame and short curly white hair. “That ol’ lady was the only one who could make ‘em with her special recipe or somethin’. Then the poor woman got sick and passed away. After that her daughter took over this place and although she tried hard to remake the Egg Rolls it’s never  _that_  delicious no more. Eventually she gave up and the dish got removed from our menu.” The young man shrugged his shoulders. 

“Oh, that’s...too bad.” Rick mused. Old Jena’s a good-hearted woman. 

“Yep, she’s one of a kind.” 

The bartender didn’t try to counter him with questions about his choice of food but let him took his time. He’s not hungry really, it just the urge to visit old places had taken him here and besides he’d love to enjoy the freedom before going back to Atlanta. Dwight sent message for him every day, that’s right,  _every single day._ From an outsider's view you’d think they’re a couple, but the truth was one of the messages was a polite condolence, the rest of them was to nag Rick to come back to the company.  _The computer can’t work on itself, Ricky, just like the money can’t be poured in your pocket by their_ _own free will. You--_ _gotta_ _work._ That scrawny guy had said. Rick wouldn’t disagree, of course he understood it, if they didn’t make him work at the weekend more than not and sometimes sent him work orders at 4 in the fucking morning. 

Rick sighed. 

“You think lasagna will do? I came here with only Egg Rolls in my head so,” He confessed. 

“It’s the second most famous one of us so yeah, think you should give it a go.” Stormy Eyes chuckled and fetched the custom notebook, and looked up at Rick through the fringe of his hair. Oh don’t ask him where that nickname came from. It just suited the guy. 

Rick finally gave up in the battle of choosing what to eat and made his choice with lasagna and a bottle of Bud. Stormy Eyes disappeared behind the kitchen door to stick the order up and started to scream bloody murder at one of the cooks for something Rick couldn’t make out of. On the wall next to the liquor shelves were the wood board shelves which had some dusty things on it. A bunch of keys, a green bow, or a well-folded jacket although its color had gotten dull. He wondered idly why they’re so rusty. The rain was still falling outside. 

“God damnit, Merle.” The bartender came back out and looked ready to punch something. “Already told the fucker not to mess up the ordered food. Gluttonous...” And all the other words left came out mumbling.  

Rick almost, smiled at that. But then the phone chimed in his pocket and he winced. Speak of the Devil. 

 **_You got at least 4_  ** ** _requests needed to be done next week. Please hurry and drag_** ** _your_** ** _ass back here asap or I’d love to give_  ** ** _this_  ** ** _position_** ** _to another_** ** _person then_** ** _you don’t have to come back at all._ **  

 **_From your Manager._ **  

He clenched his jaws and breathed deeply once. Rick was a well-controlled man so he schooled his expression pretty well but _God_  did this one make his hackles raise. He didn’t answer and just slipped it back in.  

“You alright man?” Stormy Eyes asked him concerningly, his hand slowing from the cleaning. Rick smiled at him and spoke with his practiced calm voice. “I’m alright.” The other man regarded him with a skeptical look but didn’t say anything. After a while he suddenly huffed out a small laugh.  

“Guess city life’s hard on you huh?” 

Rick’s eyes got wide. “What...how’d you know I’m living in a city?”  

“Well, it’s kinda easy to guess. You lived here ‘fore right? Most of the people leave the county to go to the city to find jobs. Although the chance might be even slimmer there.” 

“Hmm not a lucky guess then”. Rick said amazedly. “You’re really observant.” 

The man somehow got a faint blush on his face and ducked his head. Rick found it weirdly endearing. “So how is it?” 

“It’s not so bad.” The sounds of the other customers' talking suddenly filled the space between them. For a moment Rick wanted to keep them there, but then he’s pissed off with himself and said again. 

“Okay, alright. It sucks.”  

“Damn right.” Stormy Eyes showed his lopsided smile. “I still remember you got these little coins that used to be your happiness, now the money just turned into a burden.”  

“What do you mean?” Rick confused, _again_. This guy was making him crazy. 

“We’ve met before Rick.” The other man’s eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights. “Or  _I’_ ve seen you before. Guess you don’t even know my name.” He rolled his eyes after correcting. 

“Too bad it’s true though. So how did you meet me then? We’re in the same school or something?”   

“Nah. So when I was small I sometimes saw you in here with your father. My mom worked as a waitress for this place at the time so when I came home from school I’s always here waiting for her. And you Jesus, every time you’re here you’d start rambling about your precious coin collection, loud enough for me who sat in a corner could even hear ‘em.” Stormy Eyes chuckled. And Rick slowly recollected, once upon a time, there’s a kid whose blonde hair’s so bright it’s almost platinum, he’s slim and had a beauty spot on his face. He always sat alone, quietly looking out the window. Now and then he’d turn his attention toward Rick, listening curiously to his cheerful stories that he’s telling his father. The kid never went to Rick, just merely sitting there watching the world with his smoldering blue eyes. 

“Ahh, I remember you now! So you’re that lurking kid!” 

“What the hell man? That’s my nickname in your mind?” Stormy Eyes groaned and this time Rick chuckled. 

“ What’s your name then?”  

“Daryl. Dixon.”  

Daryl Dixon. The name flowed smoothly on his tongue when he tested it with his mouth closed. “Nice to meet you, Daryl.” Rick gave out his hand. Stormy Eyes – Daryl – brought out his to catch it with warm callous fingers. “Likewise, Rick.” 

“It’s true that I used to like collecting coins. But seriously if you hadn’t reminded me I’d have forgotten about it.” Rick sheepishly responded. Few years ago kids like him had competed with each other to see who had got the most various types of coin and he himself was very proud of his rather large collection. “Now they must be lying dusty in the jar somewhere on the attic of my house. Well, my parents’ house.” He stopped to thank the waitress who had brought the food for him.  

“If you don’t use them anymore but sell them away, I bet they’ll be a fortune. The world got some guys who loves collectin’ these things in a professional way, you know? They’re crazy for ‘em.” Daryl suggested. 

“Yeah. And I even have some old-time ones. But nah, think I’ll keep them, like the souvenirs of my childhood, something like that.” 

“Mmhm, I get it.” 

“Speakin’ of souvenirs, you see the stuff here?” Daryl pointed to the wood shelves where the dusty things laid. Rick nodded. 

“These things actually weren’t ours, the customers forgot to bring them with them and here they are.” 

“So that’s how it is. I keep wondering why they got so worn out.” 

“Yeah ‘cause no one ever came back to get them. And ol’ Jena’d thought of them as pieces of different souls, and hoped they’d bring good luck for the place. Sound dumb as it is, but I think it works.” Daryl shook his blonde head, feigning the exasperation. 

“Hey Dare! I’ll have root beer! Tell me, do we have discount today my friend?” A bulky guy with ginger hair and thick moustache bawled loudly when he sat down the stool with some of his friends. 

“Keep dreamin’ Ford!” Daryl waved his hand dismissively and smirked. When he turned away to fill the tumbler Rick had a view of the man’s massive shoulders. Muscles moved under the fabric when he swayed his body, and Rick was sure they could get more defined in the future.  

He downed the food with a gulp of beer. 

“Your father still good?” Daryl said when he came back.  

“Actually today is his funeral.” Rick looked down at his hands and heard the other man’s breath hitch a little.  

“I’m sorry Rick.” 

“It’s alright. Eventually no one can get away from the death.”  

After a moment of silence, Daryl spoke up, his voice warm and quiet. “Know it’s none of my business, but I believe the man loved you a lot.” When Rick didn‘t say anything but the other knew he’s listening, he continued. “You gotta see his face when he talked about you with his friends Rick, it brightened up and became red like a tomato, and I called him Captain Tomato back then for that, you know?”  

“Seriously?” Rick couldn’t help but smile. 

“Yup.” 

“So what’s mine? My nickname.” 

“You don’t have one.” Daryl laughed when Rick’s face dramatically fell.  

“Thank you, Daryl.” He told him honestly. “For cheering me up.” And the other man grew perplexed suddenly, like he wasn’t used to people showing him appreciation. Daryl wasn’t a talker, really, maybe the job required the talking but Rick could see that he’s the type who only spoke up when he got real things to say in his normal life. He found that he had no complaint at all, ‘cause he wasn’t an active conversationalist either. Talking to Daryl was easy, and he had to remind himself this was a stranger, not an old friend like Shane or Lori. Maybe because they’re strangers to each other? Or maybe it’s something else but Rick’s quite content with whatever it was right now.  

“So uhm, my shift is over now. I gotta go. See you later then?” After looking up at the big clock on the wall, Darl turned his gaze back to Rick, his face incredibly young in that moment.  

“Yeah, Daryl, I will come back here someday for sure. You still be there by that time?”  

“Well if by that time Jocelyn hasn’t decided to fire me ‘cause of the greedy piece of work called my brother yet then yeah, I’ll still be here.” Rick’s smile became wider with giddiness. 

Daryl searched for his leather jacket and a pack of cigarette under the counter and like he’d forgotten something, he returned and reached out toward the wood shelves, blew the dust from the small thing he’d just picked up and tossed to Rick who caught it with one hand. The cold substance of metal radiated in his palm. 

A coin. 

“Keep it, you know, like a thing for luck.” 

“Whose is this?” 

“I don’t know, heard there was this ol’ lady wearin’ black from head to toe and when she left, that fuckin’ coin was in her tea cup. Don’t worry, it’s not cursed man.” Daryl called out. 

Turning the coin around his fingers and smiling, Rick shouted out for the man to hear. “ _I‘_ _ll keep it_.  _Thanks_.”  

Daryl walked out the door with a small wave of his hand. After that Rick sat there for a long while and when the food was all gone and the bottle was one-third left, he stood up and carefully put the coin in his suit pocket.  

Outside the rain had stopped. The afternoon lights glowed with orange and purple strokes of the lowering sky. Rick left  _Dark Ocean_  with a pleasant feeling and headedhome. Not until later that night when he’s done spending time with dear Aurelia and lying in the bed warmly for a few minutes already did he remember that he’d forgotten something.

 

His freaking umbrella.

 

Guess he’d pay Daryl another visit sooner than he thought.  

 

    


End file.
